Come To Visit When You Can

They called me 'PAYT-air' when I was born in Joliet,

"Peter" when I started school in Saint Paul.

Call me Pete.

I have come to rest.

Rest assured I will brag about you. 
 

Come To Visit When You Can 


Bob Komives 

I was a big kid—

a good student after I learned English.

I had a memory like a trap.

I was a tough kid.

I took nothing from nobody—

not even from my teachers

if I thought they were unfair.

I did not try to treat you all the same.

I did try to treat you fairly.

I was an honest kid.

They could trust me to a penny.

We had about sixteen dollars

when we got married.

Leona raised you kids.

She was a wonderful mother.

I thought I would die first.

Thank you for coming here,

my family,

my friends,

their friends.

Death,

wakes,

funerals,

cemeteries,

they were important in my life.

I was a loyal kid.

I tended flowers

on the graves of brother and sisters.

I earned money taking care of other graves.

Decoration Day was important to me

until they said we could no longer tend the graves.

I guess this is my heritage.

I hear that a relative,

who does not know how she is related,

tends beautifully

my grandmother's grave in Hungary.

Thank you for coming today,

my family,

my friends,

their friends.

I bragged about each of you

to the others

at one time

and another.

In case you didn't hear it from me,

now is the time to tell each other.

Today, I want you to say

when you shake hands:

"Pete bragged about you."

"Pete bragged about you."

I was strong as a bull.

I was a railway carman,

a center,

a linebacker.

Man, I was lucky!

I never thought life would go so well.

I had a good life.

I built boxcars.

I fixed them,

inspected them.

I liked my job.

I was never afraid to get dirty.

(But, I still clean up pretty good.)

I knew my job.

Nobody knew it better.

I could have been a foreman,

but I didn't want to drag my family

from town to town,

up and down

the Northern Pacific Railway.

I started at the Como Shops.

I was fifteen.

I passed for eighteen.

I was a big kid,

a strong kid.

They wanted me

to go to Del La Salle high school to play football.

It would cost four tokens on the streetcar each day.

I asked my dad.

He said I should get a job.

I never turned down a chance to earn a nickel.

The Depression,

it was tough for everyone.

I helped build Monkey Island at Como Zoo on the W.P.A.

I don't like social workers.

She wouldn't give me money

to buy a white shirt

so I could tend bar.

She gave me money for coal.

I bought the shirt.

Leona and I collected our coal

along the railroad tracks.

The Swede fired the other bartender.

He gave me a raise for the extra money

he found in the till when I worked.

I underbid a man and a mule

to dig a house foundation by hand.

I didn't know much,

but I was never afraid to ask advice—

from the Irishman,

the Swede,

the Jew

the Polack.

The Kraut taught me to read a newspaper.

(If you want to know, I'll tell you.)

Each of you taught me something.

I passed it on.

You asked my advice.

I gave it—much more than you wanted.

But, take it or leave it.

I don't want to tell you how to live your life.

I had a good life.

I was lucky.

I made some good decisions.

(No stockbroker ever tried twice

to give me advice I hadn't asked for.)

We moved to the lake.

Man, Leona was happy.

I was a tough man to live with.

I made mistakes.

I expected to die first.

After forty years together

she gave me a big hug and said,

"Pete, I guess I want to live with you."

I suppose that says something.

I got my high-school equivalency at age sixty.

I liked my work,

but I retired early.

Everything just fell into place.

Those were good years.

Except the lake kept rising.

With a wheelbarrow we moved

truckloads of fill.

We were both strong.

I was strong.

I loved my flowers.

I loved my vegetables.

I can tell you how

to get a long harvest from your broccoli.

There is a right way to do most things.

If it's worth doing

it's worth doing right!

I always said, "I'm as good as the best

and better than the rest,"

but I never said I was perfect.

I made mistakes.

I told you so.

So, don't do as I did;

do as I said.

We sent you kids to Catholic school,

but it was you kids who got Leona and me

to go to church every Sunday.

I hope I thanked you for that.

I had no problem making up my own mind

as to what is right and what is wrong.

I hope you can thank me for that.

I was a tough old man,

but I often said, thank you.

Remember that.

You never did get me to stop swearing,

or to change my grammar.

You can't take off all the rough edges.

I led a rough life when I was a young man.

I hung around with some bad characters.

Sitting on a boxcar,

I told the Polack I was tired of it.

I wanted to settle down.

I met Leona.

She was ready too.

I thought I would die first.

We had a good life,

but my last seven years were tough.

The last three years have been tough—

tough on me,

tough on you.

I had had a memory like a trap.

I was a strong man.

I vacuumed the floor,

made breakfast and lunch

while Leona fished.

I read my newspapers,

my magazines.

I liked to study before I made a decision.

It worked for us.

We paid our way—

even today.

I never wanted to be dependent.

But, you could depend on me,

and I could depend on you.

That's what family and friends are for.

I bragged to each of you about the other.

Remember me and tell each other.

Plant a flower in my name.

Come to visit when you can.

Call me Pete.

I have come to rest.

Rest assured I will brag about you.

Fort Collins © 1995  :: Come To Visit When You can  ::  ,9501